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Thursday, 20 November 2008

No, I didn't say imagination. I said mind. My mind will NOT shut off. I've often been asked about my muse. Is it male or female? What does she look like? Is she bossy? Lazy? Nagging?

She. Is. A. Bitch.

I dubbed her Lady Muse a.k.a. The Bitch. I don't mean just bitch. Oh, no...not this chickie. She wears black leather, high-heeled thigh-high boots, carries a bullwhip--and the wench uses it too! She cracks the whip while I wash dishes or clothes. Lady Muse cracks it whenever I'm at the desk or pick up my laptop. She screams at me as I drive to the library or the grocery store. And God help me if I want to just read or laze and watch TV.

"Get up and write!"

"I'm tired. I need to rest."

SNAP! "There is no rest for the weary!"

"Shut. Up."

"Get. Up."

"Fu** off."

"Oh, wonderful!" CRACK! "So you want to write an erotic romance?"

"NO! I want to read a book or watch TV."

"You have work to do!"

"You are on my last nerve." I try to shove her into the dark part of my mind.

{feet pound back up the stairs from my mind cellar}

"You have to write a novel about a woman who moves into--"

"You're seriously pissing me off, know that?"

CRACK! "I said up! Write! Write! Write!"

"Ah, hell with it. I'm going to bed." I climb under the covers and close my eyes.

"You forgot to flesh out that scene about--"

"Will you shut the hell up!"

KER-SNAP! "I can talk aaaaallllllll night if I have to."

"Okay, fine. You talk to Mr. Tylenol PM and then we'll discuss the novels tomorrow."

"No! We have to sort this out now. We have to achieve word count. You have to write that sex scene so I can...wait...where's my dildo? Oh, there it is. Never mind. You can write the sex scene tomorrow."

I get up and go to the kitchen to fetch a couple of Tylenol PMs and a cup of water.

Hahahahaha! Oh yes. I know the Bitch quite well. She forced me to write a book in less than four weeks. And now she's forcing me to start another one while I'm in the middle of yet another book. Damn it. I hope I'll get some sleep next year...

WOW, she must be related to my inner editor! She's a cranky bitch without at off button and an opinion on every single thing I write.

My muse isn't that bad, she's just kind of mad at me right now... haven't had time to write. Every time I sit down to do so there's some sort of "emergency". I'll be lucky if she doesn't disappear and reappear drunk with more men attached to my brain.